


The Stairwell SCP-087

by Toxxic_Jack



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, SCP Foundation
Genre: Creepypasta, Other, POV Second Person, SCP-087
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 00:36:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13399662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toxxic_Jack/pseuds/Toxxic_Jack
Summary: You love to debunk creepypastas. But when you get dared to finally step foot into the stairwell over a dozen people have gone missing into... Have you finally bitten off more than you can chew?





	The Stairwell SCP-087

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [SCP-087](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/351612) by SCP Foundation. 



You were afraid. No, afraid wasn't the correct term. More like, absolutely fucking terrified. This wasn't the first time you messed around with the supernatural on a dare. In fact, you made quite a habit out of it. The first time was when you attempted to connect to Channel Infinity. Yeah, that was great, nothing made you feel more stupid than an hour or more of staring into a static television waiting to, what, teleport to a nightmare realm? But no, the more dares you accepted, the more of a believer you became. Sure, you debunked some ritual creepypastas. But what's worse is some of them, were more terrifying than what white words on a black screen could emphasize.

Like right now. You were facing a door. Unassuming, brown, with a bronze doorknob; an old worn-out plaque read 'Janitorial.' It led to a stairwell. Not just any old stairwell. THE stairwell, the stairwell where over a dozen people have been seen walking into. Where the lucky come screaming out, faces white as a sheet with terror, soon keeling over in exhaustion, malnutrition, and dehydration. The stairwell that you were now twisting the doorknob and opening.

It was lucky you knew to bring along a flashlight, because it was black as pitch within the first few feet of the door. You drew a deep calming breath, quickly flicked on your LED flashlight and stepped across the threshold, letting the door fall shut behind you.

Now, this particular flashlight shines up to 10 feet in usual darkness. This is not usual darkness. This dark seems to consume any light beyond 5 feet. After the five feet it's just like hitting a wall of black, there is no seeing beyond that point. It also shines dimly. Dim, like an old bulky flashlight that's almost run out of batteries.

It's also strangely cold in here, for the middle of summer. Like an ice seeping in through skin, into your bones and settling deep inside your core. You shivered and rubbed your arms, although that did absolutely nothing for the goosebumps that started rising up on your skin, nor the feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach. You took another deep calming breath.

"I can do this." You said aloud to yourself. It was strange hearing your voice through the darkness, slightly muffled, as if you were speaking through a door. You tried shrugging it off, but you couldn't help that it terrified you that much more.

You shone the light around. It seemed that the stairwell consisted primarily of concrete walls and floors. Strangely there was a '1' on the wall. You then shone the light at the first flight of steps, it only reached down about four steps as you approached. You decided that counting the steps might help with calming you down. That was a thing, right?

You started your descent. One... five... eight... eleven, twelve, and thirteen. Thirteen steps that did nothing to calm your nerves. The semi-circular landing led you in a 180 and you started to take yet another deep breath when you heard a sound. It was almost like... crying. Pleading. Somewhere in this godforsaken pit of darkness was a child. That child needed your help. You started down the next two flights of stairs before your flashlight glanced over a dark stain on the concrete floor.

Your curiosity got the better of you. It was a large brownish red stain that looked like... yes. You were almost certain it was dried blood. There was also a crack that ran the middle. You could imagine someone, in their rush to get to the child, tripping and falling down the thirteen stairs. You cringed and shook your head. It couldn't be. What happened to the body? You decided you didn't want to know and continued your descent into the unknown.

The next few flights were fairly the same as the first. That is, until you came upon several large gashes in the wall at about eye level. There were four long indentations. It looked as if some sort of animal with razor sharp claws had gone at it. It was at this point where you started to wonder, not for the first time, what made those people so terrified.

You decided to continue with caution. You took the next flights of steps fairly slowly and it seemed to you that, the farther you went down, the more damage was done to the stairwell. Dried blood here and there, more razor sharp gashes, and damaged railing. It was when you set foot on level thirteen that you realized you weren't getting any closer to the crying child. The pleading and sobbing still sounded as far away as it did when you first heard it. You also realized that a thirteenth floor wasn't possible unless you were eight stories underground and the child sounded fairly far off. It wasn't physically possible for you or that child to be this far underground. It also wasn't physically possible for your excess light to be eaten up by the darkness, either. If it was even possible you grew more worried and anxious than you were before as you continued down the steps. The next couple flights of stairs were pretty worse for wear. The child's voice the same distance away. How far down does this go?

"Maybe forever?" You said to yourself. You turn and start to go down one more flight of stairs.

But that was when you saw it.

A pale grey face with purely dead eyes that seemed to stare straight into your soul, crept out of the darkness and you could not help the sheer white hot terror that overtook you. Its eyes were as dark and dead as the blackness around you. The suddenness of the sobbing child escalated to a deafening roar and you found that you were too afraid to scream, to move. Your body froze and stayed rooted to the spot. Your breathing stopped and you suddenly remembered all those dark red stains. All the long gashes carved out of the walls and floors. What was this thing? It most definitely was not human. You thought you were terrified before? You didn't know terror. Now, as you stare at the pale face with soul shattering eyes half covered in the black abyss, you found you knew what true terror was.

The face made to move a fraction of an inch toward you and suddenly you could move once again. You used those few precious moments it would take for the face to reach you to turn and bolt straight back up the stairs. In the back of your mind you registered panicked screaming. You heard the sobbing right behind you and you knew that the face was following you every step of the way.

Level Ten. You could do this. You could outrun this... thing. Couldn't you? You took the steps two at a time and you swear you could feel the warmth of its breath across the back of your neck. That only spurred you on and you sped up.

Level Seven. Almost half-way there. You could do this. Just keep ahold of the flashlight. Everything would be okay. You imagined bony fingers with razor sharp claws reaching out for you.

Level Four. You could feel yourself slowing down. You were exhausted. Your legs were fighting you, every step was a jolt of pain up through your feet into your legs and back.

You can do this. You can still out run this thing. You are filled with determination. You start taking steadier steps up. You wouldn't want to trip and break your ankle. Where would that leave you?

Level One. You can see the door now. With your last bit of strength and will, you fling the door open and come rushing out into the hallway. You feel tears of joy and fear flow down your face and you crash into the wall opposite.

You can stop running. You're safe. The warm summer air seeps into your skin and warms your soul. Everything is okay.

You start when you hear desperate screams of terror. They turn into sobs when you realize they belong to you. People crowd around you. And someone touches your shoulder.

No.

You scream. A vision of bony hands with claws passes through your mind and you scrabble away from the person who has touched you.

No.

You suddenly realize that this isn't over. You close your eyes and all you can see is that face. Dead, soulless eyes. You scream and sob.

No. This isn't over. You will never again have a peaceful night in your entire life.

This will never be over.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally published on my Wattpad on February 20, 2017.


End file.
